Bound To You
by xAngelxWhisperx
Summary: Arthur wanted to make Eames hurt. He reveled in seeing defeat on his face. He wanted to punch some sense into him. Teach him a lesson. Scare him. Now he's seeing fear in Eames face and he's realising that perhaps there is more to him than a smiling fool.
1. Unsure Arthur

When Arthur thinks back to a time, a mere eighteen months ago, he never would have expected to be where he is now. This life is something entirely different, and before? Well before 'different' would have terrified Arthur. Though this is not something Arthur would ever have admitted.

Arthur who loves organisation and order; Arthur who never has a hair out of place and who plans in advance each week which suit he will wear and when. And it is always a suit, or at the very least slacks and a shirt.

And then Arthur meets Eames. Messy, sly, whirlwind Eames who is never without a smile and who flirts shamelessly. With whomever and wherever, Eames doesn't seem to care.

And suddenly Arthur is feeling and thinking things that he never would have before. He is spending more time wondering what it would be to kiss those lips and grasp fistfuls of that hair and- yank it until that ridiculous smirk is wiped from the other mans face. More and more time is spent resisting the urge to physically hurt Eames, to get one up on him. He wants to make Eames hurt.

He wants to make Eames cry.

Or at least he _did_.

_Now he's not so sure. _


	2. Unbalanced Eames

**Okay, so finally a chapter, I'm not sure how this is going to get to where I want it to be, but I enjoyed writing this chapter so it's all good. **

**I'm very sorry for the delay, I had all these ideas in my head and all the interest in the story really excited me. I'm so greatful for the comments and all those that added it to there favourite list and set it to alert. But I've just started univeristy, so it's all been incredibly hectic, I moved into halls as well. So I've been trying to get my room sorted, and i've had to get to know my room mates and get used to living with lots of people and being in a new city. It's been a little bit crazy. So I hope this chapter has been worth the wait. Enjoy. **

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'You shot me. You shot me in the head you bastard.'

'Well I do apologise darling, I was only doing what I thought best.'

'What you thought best? What you thought best was to bloody well shoot me in the head? Where exactly does that logic come from, enlighten me?' Arthurs words are dry, his same bland drone, though something underneath is quivering with tension. This is the beginning of things to come.

'Well, I simply thought I would speed up the process of the kick. You did seem a little bored Arthur.'

'Exactly, _Eames_, there was a kick about to be issued, because we were in training. Yes _Eames, _training hence why there was no need to shoot me in the head.'

The fact that Arthur is expressing his irritation towards Eames only makes him want to goad the man further.

Or so he tells himself, but sometimes there is the brief moment where Eames thinks too much. And in those moments the same old fear arises, that perhaps his reason for behaving this way goes far deeper than just for laughs.

But he never allows himself to travel, metaphorically speaking, any further along this train of thought. There are too many memories here that need to be put to rest, memories that haunt the recesses of his mind.

And so instead of simply apologising for an action he knows was childish he retorts with something equally as bad and the argument isn't laid to rest until Cobb enters the room.

Cobb entering the room has recently come to mean one of two things. The first it could mean is that there is a job to do, a prospect that greatly appeals to Eames who is bored of the slow dull streets of whichever city they are in now.

The second thing Cobb's presence could signify is that the place they are residing is about to become very dangerous; someone has found them and is going to try and kill them.

From the way Cobb stumbles through the door, shirt crumpled, coat whirling behind him as he heaves in a breath, it is definitely the latter.

And this excites Eames even more, because now he gets the excitement of the chase. He gets the adrenaline surging in his veins as he races down narrow streets, Arthur close behind, gun in hand and eyes franticly searching. Even the bullets now whizzing past Eames ear are comforting, because Eames knows this, Eames understands this.

'You doing okay love?' Eames throws the words over his shoulder as he rounds another corner. And the words are spoken in a sharp exhale, but he is sure that Arthur heard them well enough.

As Eames rounds another sharp corner, shoulder barely grazing the wall, feet pounding the pavement in a mirror of Eames thumping heart Arthur voices his reply to Eames question.

'Shut up and keep running.'

'Oh how heartless Arthur dear, I only wished to check that you had not fallen behind.' _Sharp inhale of breath, dodge bin, round corner._ 'I would hate to have to go through the trouble of retracing my steps only to find you dead in some alley way.' _Gasp in breath, duck behind wall, fire and run once again._ 'I guess it is true when they say; no good deed goes unpunished, and such a thing was only intended to aid in your well being.' Eames's voice is dripping with a sense of hurt that he does not feel, only pretends to. Because Eames knows Arthur, and he knew when he asked that Arthur would never simply answer as a normal person would. Namely because Arthur is not a normal human being.

Arthur is extraordinary, patient and wise beyond his years. Arthur is thoughtful, intelligent and genuine.

And Arthur is brimming with passion, though many would laugh and ask how dull, boring, organised Arthur could understand what it means to be passionate.

Arthur is everything that Eames could only wish for, that Eames was never given the chance to be. And that is what Eames is thinking about, his missed opportunities in life, when his legs give out from under him.

This time he doesn't merely graze the wall but crashes into it, head hitting brick in dazed confusion as he tries to assess what could possibly have caused him to lose balance so.

And then it hits him like a punch in the face as Arthur grabs him by the shoulders and hauls him into the shelter of the nearest building.

The light green shirt Eames is wearing now has a patch that is turning an unusual shade in the dim light of the warehouse he finds himself in. And Arthur is shoving him into a corner and mumbling abusive words at Eames. Arthur is telling him how much of a nuisance Eames is, how it's his fault he is out of ammo and without a mobile phone and how he should have left him to bleed in an alley.

And Eames can't help but chuckle at the sorry state of affairs.

_He is sure that if the situation were a little less dire and involved a little less deadly weaponry Arthur would be smirking at the irony of it all. _


	3. Unable Arthur

Sorry this is so short and sorry it's been so long. I want to thank everyone who has fabourited it and left reviews. If anyone could tell me how to reply to those I'd love it! But anyway here is the next chapter, I hope it's okay for you.

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Eames is bleeding all over the whitewashed floor of the warehouse Arthur has shoved both of them into and the irregular drip, drip drip, drip is driving Arthur mad. He thinks that if perhaps that noise would just stop he'd be able to concentrate on the things going on around him. If it weren't for distracting him he'd be able to see through the haze of panic that's clouding his brain.

'You can't die-'

'I know love, I don't plan on it-' Eames's voice cuts off Arthur and for a second Arthur is more angry than he could possibly ever express, though he could never fully explain why.

'Don't say that! This is serious; this job needs to be completed. You cannot die before you complete this job.' Those aren't the words Arthur wanted to voice, with his voice barely above its usual calm pitch. There are so many different things he wanted to say, comforting things. Like how sorry he was, how everything would be okay or how _he_ needed Eames to survive because really, he didn't know how he could ever live without him.

Words that were more human; he hadn't meant to say that.

But he had.

Arthur doesn't know how he expects Eames to react but nothing would have led him to believe it would be like this. What he expects is something like this;

_Eames is smirking, he's grinning and he's saying 'Arthur darling, that you're words are of care and sympathy is touching. Of course I'll complete the job, I am the best after all. Forging is what I do Arthur dear, I could do it with my arms tied behind my back. I can certainly do it shot.'_

But that isn't what he gets. Instead Eames doesn't make eye contact in his usual cocky way; instead he keeps his eyes trained on the filthy uneven ground. When he finally speaks his words are filled with some emotion Arthur can't identify.

'I know and I won't. I'll finish the job even if it kills me.' At that he gives a small derisive snort. 'Cobb has his children to think of, to get back to. Family comes first, got to live for the family right. So wipe that uncertain scowl of you pretty little face and get me something to bandage myself up with so we can get going.

Arthur has noticed, over the years, that Eames is never seen to shirtless. Nothing but the barest flashes of skin is ever revealed to the world. This is not something that Arthur has paid a great deal of attention to. But now, as he stalks to the front of the warehouse to keep guard like Eames had insisted, he can't seem to think of anything else. Did Eames hate his touch? Hate it so much that he wouldn't even let Arthur bandage him?

Eames is vain; his self-loving nature is something that is flaunted to the world, so why would he hide is body? The two just did not go together. It was a fact that Eames very rarely fitted into the norm but Arthur had to admit that this was different and the worried him more than he'd ever be willing to say.

Even now as Eames insisted to apply the first layer of bandages his self he hadn't even allowed Arthur to help him remove his shirt, despite his obvious difficulty in doing so.

'Come now darling,' Arthur must have missed Eames's initial words. 'Stop the daydreaming, we don't have all day. If you take too long I may bleed to death before we reach the building.'

Arthur jumps to attention at that, the casual use of death Eames uses, and feels a shudder rack his usually controlled physique. All too ungracefully he watches as Eames halls his damaged body from the floor and all Arthur can do is watch because his body is frozen and won't let him do anymore.

Arthur finds himself getting uncharacteristically angry once again because he should be able to handle situations such as there, has been trained for them. But this is Eames is this situation and though Arthur is loathe to admitting it that makes all the difference.


	4. Ustable Eames

Eames and Arthur are on the road again. Or perhaps that should be in the alley again, because the roads at this point would equate to suicide. Not that Eames would be so adverse to that right now. In fact the prospect seems downright pleasant to him, because (and he'll never admit this aloud) that bullet wound in his side is absolute agony.

'Darling, a slower pace would be much appreciated; I'm not quite up to full power yet.'

He's not complaining, not really, lord knows this isn't the first time that he's been injured and forced to continue on regardless. Not the first time he's been shot either, though it's never been a stomach shot, those are bloody notorious for being bleeders, and, you know, killing you. So he isn't complaining, this is just Eames- being Eames, it's what's expected of him and what's familiar. He needs familiar right now because right now he's in unfamiliar territory, in an unfamiliar city, with a partner who hates him (which is never good for moral). And damnit if his vision isn't blurring, head spinning and if he gets to the warehouse without vomiting on his fancy shoes (if at all) it will only be by some kind of miracle. So familiar is good right now.

'We have six blocks to cover and - 'he flicks his wrist up, to glance at his watch and grimaces. 'Ten minutes to get there, if we are pushing it. We don't have time to slow down.'

Arthur is an arsehole.

Doesn't make him wrong though; so instead of slowing down Eames speeds up and tries not to pant at the exertion. His grim determination appears as an almost demented grin; he's glad that Arthur is in front, because Eames thinks the smile may scare even him.

They reach the outside building in 9 minutes 10 seconds, which is lucky because Eames needs to take the spare 50 seconds to fall against a wall, clasp his stomach and pray to every kind of God that he can and cannot name that he doesn't collapse into himself then and there.

'Eames..?' The voice startled him and he launches himself off the wall, dizziness be damned when he spots Yusuf. Arthur has just waltzed in and left him, fucker.

'Hey Yu, didn't know you were involved on this job. Not that I'm complaining like, though I seem to remember you vehemently swearing you weren't jobbing it with us ever again. In all honesty I was a little offended to hear that Yu.' Eames is waltzing (or trying) up to Yusuf and pouting as if disappointed in him before carrying on around him.

'Well Cobb's freedom relies on this job, so I told him I'd be involved in the drug side but nothing more.' Eames turns around at this, knowing full well that Yusuf knows full well, that with Cobb things are never so simple. 'You know-' Eames begins.

'That I am not going to ignore the fact that you quite obviously have blood on your shirt-'(Not something Eames has taken into consideration; it's a dark shirt) - 'your hand has unconsciously moved to your side whilst we've spoken and you're pale. Your left eye is twitching ever so and you're leaning slightly to the right. You are swaying, Eames.

'You think I haven't known you long enough to pick out when you are injured? Fuck Eames, I've nursed you back to health enough damn times!'

Eames can't look him in the eye, because he knows all this, knows he's right. Eames should never have expected him just to just leave it alone. He knows that Yusuf deserves the truth, but what is he supposed to tell him. 'Oh yeah, Yu, I've been shot, in the stomach no less. Regardless of that and all the time you've spent trying to patch me up and keep me alive I'm going to completely disregard that and complete this job before possibly visiting the hospital. That's provisional, of course, because I may not live long enough to do so.'

'Yu, I-' can't, won't, don't do this to me. Yes I may be a little bit injured but everything is fine for now. We have to do this job Yusuf, this is too important, I need to be needed; I need to be useful. His lips curl into an estimation of a smile.'Arthur took care of me, bandaged me up and everything.' Which is close enough to the truth and Eames can finally settle his gaze on the corner of Yusuf's lips instead of on the floor, because a half truth isn't a lie.

'Please don't give me that luck, this needs to be done, you said that yourself. I am injured and it is bad Yu. So I'd be most grateful for one of your pain concoctions, non-addictive of course and non drowsy would be perfect. I promise after this I'll get proper medical help. Just let me do this, you know I need-'

And Yusuf does know him too well, because he walks forward, slips a hand under Eames' chin and a vial into his hand. Yusuf leans in, kisses Eames on the forehead before he leans back and walks around him.

'Just be careful 'mes, and if that fails I'll always be there to save you.' The words are spoken on an exhale, just a brush of air that's blown away from him almost before he can hear it, though he hears it all regardless. It wouldn't matter if he hadn't he's heard the words often enough, had them memorised so many years before. It's the first real smile he's managed all day.


End file.
